Eternal Flame
by f4life
Summary: Lakota's life takes a turn for the worst when Jacob Black is forced into it. He doesn't want the imprint; he looks upon it as a curse.  Will he prove the impossible & detach himself from her, or will he fall for the one he was always meant to be with?
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: Right so I know I'm in the middle of writing a SethXOCXPaul story, I haven't forgotten, but I literally HAVE to write this. You see I saw Breaking Dawn last night and after watching it, I felt sad all over again (I constantly felt sad while reading the book). Personally, I hate the fact that Jacob imprinted on Renesmee, it's just so wrong for his character. He should've imprinted on some girl on the reservation or even got together with Leah (felt really sorry for her while I was watching the movie). But I prefer the former. So here I am going to write yet another JacobXOC story, but it's going to be slightly different to my others. Basically because this is what I wished happened in Breaking Dawn.**_

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Obviously. **_

_**Summary: Lakota is just an ordinary girl, living an ordinary life. She's loved by many and hated by none.  
>But her life suddenly takes a turn for the worst when Jacob Black is forced into her life. He doesn't want the imprint; he looks upon at as a curse and therefore tries his hardest to hate innocent Lakota.<br>Will Jacob prove the impossible and detach himself from her, or will he finally let himself love the one he was always meant to be with?**_

**Chapter One: Jacob Black**

First Beach was always freezing, whether it was summer or winter, the weather always seemed to be the same. Miserable was a word I thought described it perfectly, although I did love how it appeared. It was such a beautiful part of the earth, so perfect, so pure. The sand smooth and soft against your feet, the sea sparkling during any time of the day and the air filled with oxygen. Reminding you of its beauty and the good luck you had for living so close to it. I loved spending time on there, regardless of the weather.

As the minutes passed and I continued to walk along the shore, shoes in hand, I neared the part of the beach I disliked. Not that it looked any different to the rest of the land, it didn't, it was just as beautiful, but the same group of teenagers always hung out in that exact spot. And these teenagers I did not like; they were loud and rowdy, always up to mischief and treated anyone who wasn't part of their gang like they were beneath them. Not to mention they were hardly _ever_ fully clothed, which everyone found very odd.

The only thing that went in their favor was that they never bothered anyone. I could walk by them in my own little world and none of them would say anything to me, in fact they all lowered their voices whenever I or anyone else passed them by. And I respected that, I thought it was decent of them, despite all the bad things they were supposedly up to.

I never made eye contact with any of them; I kept my distance, just like they kept theirs. But not everyone was like that, well not the female population of La Push anyway. Apparently all the young girls had crushes on at least one of the guys in the 'shady group' and the more I spoke to people, the more it turned out to be true.

Personally, I found them all to be a little intimidating.

"Lakota!" a familiar voice called out to me, stopping me in my tracks.

Turning my head around to the source of the voice, my eyes landed on none other than Seth Clearwater. He was in all of my classes, a very friendly person I must say, and everyone loved him. But for the past year he's been keeping his distance, probably because he joined the notorious group along with his feisty sister, Leah. So for him to remember my name, came to me as a surprise.

I gave him an awkward wave in reply.

"Come here!" he called, waving me over.

With my heart in my stomach and my face ten shades of red, I made my way up to him. He was sitting on piece of driftwood, his sister Leah and two other guys sitting next to him. This was incredibly awkward for me; I hardly knew Seth and I didn't recognize anyone except for Leah.

"Hi," I said, mustering up my best smile.

He stood up when I reached him, smiling back. "Hey, how you doin'?"

"I'm good, thanks."

"I.. uh." He gestured towards the others. "That's Embry, Leah and Jake."

Embry raised his eyebrows at me. "Hello."

Leah muttered something that sounded like my name, looking anywhere but at me.

And Jake never raised his head, staring down at the sand, deep in thought.

"They're not exactly happy campers right now, sorry," Seth apologized, blushing.

I nodded in understanding. "So what's up?"

"Well uh, you know how I missed out on a lot of classes this week?"

"Yeah."

"I was wondering if you could write down a list for me… on all the lessons we took? So I can catch up. I'm really sorry if I'm asking-"

"Shut up Seth, no need to sugar coat it. She'll either do it for you or she won't." Leah snapped, jumping to her feet and storming off.

The rumor was that Leah's boyfriend had dumped her for her cousin Emily. Which was absolutely terrible, such a low thing for both of them to do. And although I felt the utmost sympathy for her, I didn't agree with her attitude towards others. She took her anger and heartbreak out on everyone, which wasn't fair. I suppose it was her way of dealing with it, but it just wasn't acceptable. Leah needed to grow up.

"I'll do it," I told him. "It'll only take me a couple of minutes anyway so it's no problem."

"Thank you, I'll stop by tomorrow and pick it up. Or is tomorrow too soon-"

"It's fine Seth, so…" my gaze flew to the others again, lingering a little too long on Jake. He looked terribly miserable. Poor guy, he had only just reappeared. Everyone had thought he'd been missing. Must've been dealing with some serious problems to run away like that.

"Lakota?"

"Huh?" I mumbled, dragging my gaze away from Jacob and up into Seth's face. "Sorry?"

"Ha-ha, you zoned out there," he said, looking suspiciously over his shoulder. "Jake, you alright man?"

"I'm fine, Seth," he muttered, lifting his head to gaze out at the sea with the most mournful expression on his face.

I quirked my eyebrow up at Seth, but he just shrugged in response, obviously not comfortable with the subject.

"Well I better get going." I glanced down at my watch. "My mom will be back soon. I've Gotta get started on our dinner."

"You think you could save me some?" he asked jokingly, his sweet smile contagious.

Embry scoffed behind him. "She's probably got a boyfriend Seth, lay off."

At that Jake chuckled, but it was only for a second.

"Do you?" Seth asked, a blush creeping into his cheeks. He obviously didn't have a lot of experience with the opposite sex. Well, we both had _something_ in common.

"Seth! Jeez!" another guy said, appearing next to me with a little girl on his shoulders. "I could hear you from all the way over there, thought I'd come save your butt. Embarrassing dude, I'm surprised she hasn't run off yet."

Ignoring him, I gave Seth a reassuring smile. "I'll have it done by tomorrow."

"Great, I'll stop by to pick it up… if that's OK with you?"

"Of course it is, I'll see you tomorrow."

Embry and the other guy started making kissing noises as I turned around and began walking away. I could hear Seth hissing at them in mortification, but I took it lightly. They were just teasing him, that's what friends were for, right?

* * *

><p>The next morning I started on Seth's 'catch up' list. It took a little under half an hour to make sure I got down everything and once I was done, I headed on into the kitchen and decided to make brownies. My mom was never home, always working her butt off to provide for the both of us. She had two jobs; taking care of the elderly at a home in Forks from six in the morning to two in the afternoon, and babysitting from three till nine. It was a crazy schedule and I felt absolutely terrible for her. I was always telling her that I'd get a part-time job working a night shift, but she wouldn't hear of it. All she wanted was for me to graduate. That was her top priority.<p>

But it was so lonely for me at home; I'd spend hours by myself, not knowing how to spend my time alone. My friends were always busy lately, so focused on their schoolwork with dreams of graduating someday and getting the hell out of La Push. There was only one friend of mine, Denise, that wasn't so desperate to leave the reservation, but it was obvious why; she was in love. So she spent her days with her lovely boyfriend Craig, doing who knows what.

As for me, I had a nonexistent love life. I've never dated anyone and I was hardly interested in any of the guys around. Not that I found them unattractive, there were plenty of good looking ones. For example, there was this guy in my English class named Brian, he was tall, dark and handsome, and always spoke to me in the kindest manner. Sometimes our eyes would meet during a lesson and we'd exchange a smile. And sometimes he'd say 'hi' to me as we passed each other in the corridor. But that was it; it wasn't going to go anywhere. Not that I minded, I mean if a guy is really interested he would ask you out, right?

So with no friends and no boyfriend and a mother that was never home, I spent my days doing homework, watching TV and baking in our too small kitchen. Sometimes I'd paint, it was a secret talent I had and sometimes I'd go for walks out of mere boredom. But one thing I always did was give our next door neighbor, Joan, a meal. She was a crippled old lady, god love her, with a heart of gold. My mother and I loved her like she was family. Over the years she had been nothing but good to us and now it was our turn to give in return.

As I was placing the tray of freshly baked brownies on the counter, I heard a knock on the door.

Seth.

I rushed into the living room, retrieving the list from where I had set it on the coffee table and headed for the front door. Yes, I looked like a mess dressed in an old summer dress, converse and a granny-ish looking cardigan. But what could I do?

Pulling the door open, I smiled brightly, but my smile quickly faded when I realized that it wasn't Seth standing on my porch.

"Ja-cob?" Seth had referred to him as Jake yesterday, but I wasn't about to call him by his pet name.

At the mention of his name, his head snapped up and our eyes met.

We stared at each other for a longer time than was acceptable and in those seconds, I realized how beautiful Jacob really was. I never noticed him before, but he really was something else. He just had this type of face that you could never get tired of staring at, there was just so much handsomeness going on and his eyes, they were… different.

The sudden sound of a horn honking down the road brought me back to reality and I immediately looked away from Jacob, my face burning with embarrassment.

"You came for- for this," I said shakily, handing him the list and glancing up into his eyes once more.

To my surprise and shock, he snatched it from my hand, his eyes narrowing to slits as he glared down at me. No one had ever looked as vicious as he did in that moment and to make himself appear even more evil looking, he curled his lips over his teeth as though he hated my guts. He didn't even know me!

"You… you…" he swallowed, seemingly lost for words. His face turning ten shades lighter, until the angry look on his face was gone and replaced with a look similar to that of death. That was all I registered before he spun on his heel, fell to his knees and began to throw up. Leaving me standing there, completely bewildered.

Having no idea how to react to this, I did what was expected of me to do, regardless of the look he was giving me only seconds beforehand; I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a clean cloth, soaked it in water and then rushed back outside to Jacob, who was heaving up everything he'd eaten onto the porch. It was unbelievable really, to see a person vomit up so much.

Crouching next to him, I brought my hand up to his forehead with caution, but I didn't even need to press it to his skin. The heat radiating off of it was enough to tell me he was burning up with a fever.

I opened my mouth to speak, but I was afraid to. Jacob didn't like me, which was very clear, and speaking to him… well, let's just say Jacob was a very intimating man and I didn't want to find out how he'd respond if I said a few words to him. So I decided I'd get him a glass of water, at least that didn't require speaking or touching, for that matter.

When I returned to him, he was done vomiting and his whole body was shaking. I tip-toed around him, careful not to startle him and held out the glass of water. He looked up at me, remnants of his vomit trailing down chin, his lips twitching and eyes bloodshot and glazy. This unsettled me, but I never moved from the spot I was standing. I couldn't let him see how much he scared the living daylights out of me.

Jacob reached up to take the glass from my shaky hand, I bent down slightly to make it easier for him to reach and then faster than the eye could see, he smacked it out of my hold.

"Jacob!" I gasped, my mouth hanging open as I heard it smash into a hundred pieces.

He raised himself to his feet, wobbling slightly, unbalanced. "You can't make me do anything!" he hissed, tears flooding his eyes. "You're not going to control my life; you're not going to control me! I belong to myself, you hear me!"

Shrinking under his menacing glare, I took a step backwards, my heartbeat irregular. I shouldn't have helped him, I should've kept my distance; he was insane.

"Helping me out, bringing me… bringing me water! Offering a helping hand! Luring me in, just like all of you do. Well let me tell you now." He was in my face now, smelling of sweat and vomit. "I will never ever fall for it, I won't ever give in, I'm a man, _and I_ _am_ _human_! Just because… just because I'm different, just because fate had different plans for me, doesn't mean I'm not going to fight for my life. _My_ life! You have no say-"

I couldn't hear him anymore; it seemed I was too afraid to. My heartbeat drumming in my ears, the only sound I _could_ hear. It was one of those moments when you fear for your life and have run out of any chance of escaping. Just like in a thriller, except it's real. Jacob was a psychopath and whoever his parents were did one hell of a job of keeping it a secret. All I heard about him were good things; that he was a giving person with a kind heart. But this proved them to be untrue. He was a vicious lunatic hating on a girl he didn't know one thing about.

God help me.

"Are you even listening to me?" he shouted, his face so close to mine I could smell his bitter breath.

And then I took a chance; I turned away from him and began walking up to my open front door. If he touched me, I could warn him and if he hurt me, well maybe I'd get the chance to phone the police. Depending on how bad my injuries were.

Surprisingly, he never made any move to stop me and I breathed a sigh of relief when my two feet were in door. But there was a part of me, a tiny little part of me, a part of me that I couldn't control, which felt the utmost pity for Jacob. No matter how crazy he was acting, I couldn't hate him or despise him. He had problems, and I just hoped that he wouldn't get himself killed by his attitude. Not everyone was like me; most wouldn't feel _anything_ for him, just disgust.

When I turned to shut the front door, he was standing in the same spot I'd left him, except now he was staring down at his feet, hands balled into fists at his sides. He was angry and frustrated, that much I could tell. I just didn't understand why he was taking it out on me.

"Jacob?"

His brown eyes met mine, a single tear falling from one onto his smooth cheek. The hate and rage on his face gone, replaced with another emotion; one I couldn't put my finger on.

"Go home," I told him softly, before shaking my head in sadness and shutting the door.

Jacob was a lost soul.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Third Person P.O.V<strong>_

_Lakota swallowed the last bite of her chocolate brownie and raised herself to her feet. The remaining crumbs falling from her dress onto the wooden floor. She'd been sitting out all night, lost in her own thoughts and having no one to talk to. Her mother had phoned her earlier, informing her that she wouldn't be home until midnight, which only saddened Lakota even more._

_She had been feeling sad ever since the incident with Jacob. There was just something about him that touched her heart, made her want to reach out and help him. She remembered feeling sorry for him on First Beach, the way he was staring down at the sand, shoulders hunched, as though the weight of the world had been placed upon them. He looked so miserable, so broken._

_And although he frightened her only hours ago, she couldn't find it in herself to possess any ill feelings toward him. _

_Jacob watched her from behind a tree, all furry and animalistic; his brown eyes following her figure as she stepped inside her sweet smelling hallway and shut the door. No matter how many times he forced himself to stay away, he couldn't. The alpha had imprinted. _

_As much as he wanted to hate her, it was proving impossible to do so. The feelings she had ignited in him could compare to no other; powerful and all-consuming. If he stopped thinking about her for just a second, he felt there was something missing and then he'd realize why. It angered him, he didn't want to have a girl chosen for him; he wanted to choose for himself, just like he had chosen Bella._

_Isabella, Bella, Bells, she was all he could ever think about up until now. And it was in that moment as he was sitting on his haunches, staring at his imprints front door, that he remembered Bella and Edward honeymooning. He wondered briefly whether she was a vampire yet and if she missed him. But he was no longer worried. The idea of Bella becoming one of the bloodsuckers disgusted him, but not as much as it used to. Not as much as he wanted it to. _

_Hell, he couldn't even imagine Bella naked anymore. The image just wouldn't pop into his brain. He was beginning to see Bella as more of a sister to him now. Even the love he had for her was no longer the same, it wasn't as intense, it was exactly like the love he held for his family; plain and simple and innocent. _

_This infuriated him! He wasn't going to let some stupid imprint come between him and Bella. _

_But before he started a war within himself, he needed to do something._

_Trotting across the road and up onto Lakota's porch, he lowered his head to the floor and began lapping up her crumbs; the crumbs from her delicious brownie, the crumbs with her DNA on them. The taste was exquisite, unknown to mankind. He made sure he got every single one of them._

_Allowing himself to enjoy his imprint's baking, allowed him to feel terribly guilty for the way he had lashed out on her. And what made him feel even worse was the way she reacted, putting on a brave face for him when he could smell her fear all along. _

_Jacob forgot about himself for just a while and realized that he was crouched on her porch, human and naked. How he ended up that way, he did not know. But what he did know was that Lakota forgot to lock the front door and so he pushed himself up onto his feet and headed for the door. The fresh feeling of having just imprinted completely taking over him and making him do things that he shouldn't. _

_He found himself walking up the staircase, down the narrow hall and sniffing out her bedroom. It was the last room on the right and the door was wide open. He could hear her breathing evenly, confirming that she was asleep. So he stepped into the room, his lips parted and eyes glazy with desire. Despite the darkness, he could make out her small body in the double bed. She was laying in the fetal position. Her rosy smell his new favorite smell in the whole wide world. _

_Pressing his back to the wall opposite her bed, he watched her sleep. It was like torture, he wanted to be in bed with her, he wanted to take her right there and make her his. He wanted to mark her as his own. His mind filled with all these crazy, obsessive ideas and he found it so incredibly hard to remain standing there when all he ever wanted was-_

_His body began shaking again as he pushed away those thoughts he had of her, the thoughts the imprint made him feel. He was having an inner battle with himself. It wasn't fair! Jacob was the alpha; he was strong and powerful and admirable. He couldn't let this take him, he couldn't. He'd fight it as much as he wanted it. He would prove the impossible to the whole pack. He would break the spell._

_Storming out of the bedroom, he rushed down the stairs and back outside, nostrils flaring and body quivering. And with one last thought of Lakota's beautiful face, he ran across the road and exploded into the russet wolf._

_I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, he chanted in his head._

_Little did he know that a certain someone was watching him through their bedroom window; Joan Carmichaels, the old lady Lakota considered family. _

_Jacob's secret not much of a secret anymore. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Lakota Reeves **

"Lakota!"

From somewhere in the house, I heard my mom call out for me, so I stopped what I was doing – which was overanalyzing what transpired between Jacob and I last week – and ran down the stairs into the living room where she sat on the too big leather couch we had just recently bought at discount.

"Hey mom." I smiled, sitting down next to her with a thump. "Good to see you, missed you last night."

"Another long day," she said, lowering the volume on the TV and twisting around to face me. "I've told you time and time again that I don't want you to wait up for me, you need your sleep honey and you did right last night."

"But I worry, mom."

"I know you do." She patted my leg. "But I don't want you to, that's for me to do. We don't want worry lines adorning your forehead now, do we?"

I sighed. "I probably already have them."

She laughed. "Nonsense! So tell me, I've been hearing from some neighbors of ours that you and some young man had a fight out on our front porch last week, is that true?"

"Sort of…" I mumbled, heat rushing to my cheeks.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, but it's no big deal. Trust me."

Her eyes lost the softness to them. "Who was this young man?"

"Mom it doesn't matter, please mom. I don't really feel like talking about it."

"Lakota! I'm your mother and as your mother I'm concerned. I don't like the thought of leaving you here alone all day when you're having fights with someone. Not only is it someone, but it's Jacob Black!"

"I thought you didn't know who-"

"Don't you remember he went missing? Have you seen the size of him? Honey, he isn't to be messed with. If anything and I mean _anything_ happens between you two again, you must inform me of it!"

"OK, mom," I whispered, sinking further into the couch.

"Please tell me why you two were fighting?"

Images of Jacob on my porch, one after the other, rushed to the front of my mind, reminding me for the one hundredth time that he hated my guts. For the past week it was all I could think about, and even in my sleep it haunted me, tangled in my nightmares. In my whole life I had never met anyone who hated me, I was always good to people and so for him to have such ill feelings toward me for no reason… it bothered me to no end.

How was I supposed to explain why we were fighting when I wasn't even sure myself?

"He came here to pick up something for Seth Clearwater, you know him?" she nodded in response. "Yeah, well he asked me to write him a list of what he missed in school and said he'd drop by the next day. But apparently he couldn't and Jacob came instead. Oh mom, I don't even know what was wrong with him, he was so angry with me. _With_ _me_! He doesn't even know me. When I handed him the list he grabbed it from me and then he randomly started throwing up and when I offered him some help he got even angrier and mom I was so afraid. I ran back in here, told him to go home and shut the door. I'm still trying to figure out why he was angry with me. Is he crazy? Like seriously, does he have mental problems?"

"I wouldn't know honey, but I've always been under the impression that he's a very nice, respectable young boy."

I snorted. "He's anything _but_ that."

"Look." She placed a comforting hand on my knee. "If anything happens again you tell me and I'll deal with it OK?"

"OK mom."

"Good, now go bring Joan in some strawberry cake. I made it this morning and I know she loves it."

* * *

><p>Joan loved the cake, sitting in her rocking chair by the warm fire, devouring it completely. The old lady seemed to be in one of her happier moods that morning, watching me with glittering eyes and smiling almost constantly. She was also very alert when I spoke and very interested in my plans for the day; which were nothing out of the usual. I couldn't help but notice though, that she seemed ready to combust with exciting news. However, she never said anything…<p>

It was when I was looking out the window, into the deep, dull woods, that she brought up something I never expected her to.

"Lakota, have you ever read the book of legends?"

I shifted in the armchair so that I was facing her. "No, why?"

"Well you should," she told me, the corners of her lips twitching. "It might come in use to you someday."

"How so?" I asked, curious.

"In so many ways, Lakota, in _so_ _many_ _ways_. You don't realize it now, but you will in time. La Push is a place full of wonder and magic, and the elders, me included, would love nothing more than for the youth of our tribe to learn more about their ancestors. It's very important for a people to know who and where they came from. Don't you agree?"

"I suppose… but there's so many more important things for us to think of, like college, university, our futures-"

She pointed her finger at me. "Exactly! Your future."

Personally, I wasn't really sure whether I should be taking Joan seriously. She was old and sat at home all day long, all the energy she once had gone. And we all knew that not getting out drives you stir crazy. Not that I thought Joan was crazy, I loved her and I was perfectly aware that she was a very wise person. But bringing up the legends so abruptly, so randomly, was just… odd.

"Joan, I-"

"You think I've lost it, don't you?"

My face paled. "What? No! No, why would you think that?"

"Why because I'm an old widower, cooped up in a tiny little house all day long. And here you are, all pure and full of life, listening to me and my old lady talk."

"I don't think you're crazy Joan, I think you're a very wise woman. I'm just a little confused is all." With a sigh, I stood up and glanced down at my watch. "I better get going anyway."

"No! Sit back down, I haven't even offered you a cup of tea yet."

"Seriously, I have to go, this is the only day I get to spend time with mom. I'll come back tomorrow, I'm going to try out this new recipe-"

"Lakota, please, just another fifteen minutes is all I ask."

With a sigh, I nodded. "Alright, but I'm making the tea. You just sit there and rest."

Joan gave me a smile that took years away from her face and I felt happy knowing it was because of me. I couldn't imagine how hard life must be when you're so old and so unable to do anything anymore. It was the least I could do to make her smile.

Walking out of the room and into the narrow hallway, my nose crinkled up at the strong smell of fresh paint. And the closer I got to the kitchen, the worse it became.

Pushing the wooden door open, I almost fainted at the sight before me.

Jacob Black clad in nothing but a pair of low hung jeans and heavy boots that easily added two inches to his already extremely tall height, stood opposite to where I was standing, his sweaty back to me as he painted over Joan's once yellow walls.

And I just stood there like the fool I was, watching him with both horror and wonder as he stroked the paint brush back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," he said as he bent down to the can of paint.

Deciding against the idea of responding to him, I rushed over to the stove, grabbed the teapot and moved to fill it with water by the sink. I was sure not only my cheeks, but my face was crimson and if that wasn't enough, my whole body was shaking. This was not how I wanted to bump into Jacob if I ever had to again, I would've preferred to spot him at the supermarket, that way I could make my great escape. But here, in Joan's kitchen, there was no way out. I was stuck with him.

As I walked back to the stove and waited for the water to boil, I couldn't make up my mind whether I should leave the kitchen and face Joan who would certainly notice my distress, or stay put and hope Jacob didn't say another word.

Eventually I decided on the latter.

However, as I impatiently stood waiting, I couldn't help but allow my eyes to swivel to the right where Jacob stood, completely dissolved in his work. He was a fine male specimen; the type of guy girls would label a 'real man'. And if he didn't hate my guts I would probably be crushing on him, but not after our incident last week. In fact, probably never, as gorgeous as he was all I could see was the cold hearted lunatic underneath his perfect russet skin. Why oh why did he hate me so?

"I think your water's boiled," he noted.

In my embarrassment and mortification, I turned the stove off at the speed of light and grabbed for the teapot too quickly that it fell onto the floor with a crash, the hot water spilling out onto the floor, some of it managing to hit both my sandal-clad feet.

Oh how it burned!

Startled, the brush fell from Jacob's hand onto the floor. But before he had the chance to catch the look on my face, I turned away from him, clasping a hand over my mouth as the tears spilled onto my cheeks. I couldn't even walk, my ten toes were on fire and to make matters worse, without walking there was no way I could get my hands on some cold water to cool them down. There was no way I could get my hands on some cream. And there was no way I could call for Joan, she could barely walk herself.

"Don't act so shocked, it was bound to happen. You weren't even paying any attention in the first place."

This statement both angered me and destroyed me, and unable to put up the act any longer, I fell to my knees and wailed. I wailed so loud I was sure the whole neighborhood could hear me, but nothing hurt as much as a burn.

"Lakota?" Joan called from the living room.

"It's alright Mrs. Carmichaels, I'll take care of everything!" Jacob called back to her.

Weeping, I reached for the teapot to turn it upright, but a warm hand closed over mine and gently pushed it away. Then there were a set of thick thighs in front of me and I didn't need to look up to see who was kneeling before me.

"What…" he gulped and softened his tone. "What happened, why are you crying?"

"I burned my feet," I managed to say, my sobs nowhere near subsiding.

He reached out for me with his large hands and I confusedly glanced up at his face, wondering what he wanted. "Let me help you," he whispered.

I didn't want Jacob's help; only a minute ago he'd been so cheeky with me. But I was in such a vulnerable state and the burning couldn't wait.

"C'mere." He took hold of my waist and pulled me onto his lap, tucking me under his chin so that my teary cheek was pressed to his chest. I still couldn't help but sob and in an attempt to make me feel better, Jacob began to stroke my hair just like his paint brush stroked the wall, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

Using his free hand, he carefully slipped both my sandals off and held my feet in his hand, examining them.

His thumb brushed my tiny toe. "Ah!" I gasped out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, shhh, I'm sorry." Raising himself up to his feet, he cradled me to him and walked up to the dining table, where an empty water bucket sat. "I'm gonna fill this with water and then you soak your feet in it, alright?"

I nodded into him and closed my eyes, listening to his heartbeat. It was the perfect distraction.

"Oh no, no, no! What happened to my sunny girl?" Joan exclaimed worriedly as Jacob carried me into the room.

"She had a bit of an accident," he told her, his tone… edgy. "_Your_ teapot filled with scolding hot water fell off the stove, burnt her feet."

"Poor darling, she always insists on doing everything for me when I'm capable of doing it myself. Her mother won't be pleased."

Setting me down into the armchair I'd been sitting in only minutes ago, he bent down and placed my feet into the bucket of freezing water. I managed to give him a small smile in thanks when he looked up at me before my eyelids drooped closed, I was suddenly so tired.

"Well she obviously does too much as it is," Jacob remarked, no longer next to me by the sound of his voice.

"Is that so, Black?"

"You should see her hands, keep her away from knives. Please." He sighed. "I'll be right back."

In my half asleep state, I could feel his warm hand on my cheek as he wiped my face with a rose-smelling tissue. This tangled into my dreams, causing me to dream of big hands.

"She's just like red riding hood, coming to see her grandmother. I'm the grandmother of course."

"And I'm the big bad wolf." Jacob chuckled.

Joan did not.

* * *

><p><em>Three hours later, Jacob shrugged into his checked shirt and headed back into the living room where Joan Carmichaels sat watching one of her old lady talk shows. The young wolf didn't like Mrs. Carmichaels so much, especially not after the accident in the kitchen. It was her fault Lakota hurt herself. Why couldn't she have just gone in and done it herself? Jacob wasn't fooled, if that old lady could live alone, then she could work alone. He wouldn't have been surprised if she could paint the whole house by herself.<em>

_There was also another thing Jacob did not like about her; she watched him too carefully and spoke to him in such a way you would speak to a child up to no good. _

_Gritting his teeth, he spoke to her. "I'm done for the day; I'll be back tomorrow, same time."_

"_Ah very well, Black." She nodded. "Tomorrow."_

_Turning his back on her, he walked over to his- the sleeping girl in the armchair. She looked so peaceful, he hated the thought of waking her. Carefully scooping her up into his strong arms, he held her close to himself as he raised her feet out of the bucket. The sight of them was enough to make him nauseous; all red and sore and blistered. If only he could've prevented it from happening…_

"_Where are her sandals?" he asked Joan, knowing she had put them somewhere an hour beforehand._

_She turned to him, raising her eyebrows. "And where are you taking her?"_

"_Next door, of course."_

"_I was going to call her mother."_

"_Well now you don't need to, besides, her mom can't carry her. Now where are they? I'll get them."_

"_Black, her mother is not home right now and Lakota hasn't got a spare key on her today. So there really is now point in you leaving this house with her."_

"_Tell me Carmichaels, you don't expect me to think you will carry her home, or anyone else for that matter?"_

"_I've been around way longer than you have Jacob, way longer. I know plenty of strong men."_

_This was like a red rag to a bull._

"_Well I'm sure all those men are dead," he snapped._

_Shooting him a look filled with all the hatred in the world, she turned away. "Sandals are out on the porch."_

_And out on the porch, Lakota and her white sandals in hand, Seth Clearwater walked by. Only to stop in his tracks, turn around and look up at Jacob with the most confused expression._

"_OK… this is normal." He gestured to the girl lying in his arms. "Please tell me you didn't knock her out by accident."_

_Jacob rolled his eyes, the sight of his pack mate irritating him. "No, dumbass. Why aren't you patrolling?"_

"_I was just going to ask you the same thing. Oh and eh, Leah relieved me for a while, said she needed time alone."_

"_And what are you doing around here?" he questioned because he had to, because of the imprint._

"_Dude, I live here."_

_The imprint was really getting to Jacob, almost grabbing a hold of him completely. Just the sight of her, the feel of her in his arms, both revolted him and thrilled him. He was torn between accepting it and fighting it._

_But what could be so wrong with loving Lakota, sweet and innocent Lakota…_

_Bella._

_Bella Swan._

_Bella Cullen._

_Drawing his gaze down to his imprints sleeping face, Jacob's heart sparked. So he bit his lip and tried to fight the feeling, to even block it, stop it from making it known to his senses. But this only made his whole body ache, proving that what he was doing was wrong._

"_Jake, man, you're shaking… and why are you looking at her like that? Like she's-"_

"_Shut up!" Jacob hissed, snapping his head up at Seth. "Go home, get out of here!"_

"_But Jake-"_

"_Go!"_

_Without any further questioning, Seth ran off._

_Unlike any other pack member that imprinted, Jacob never broke the news to any of his brothers and especially not Leah. Over the years he had always expressed his dislike and disgust about the imprint; he thought of it as a curse. To him, it was an unfair ability for nature to throw at them. Jacob liked to have a choice, Jacob liked to make his own decisions and the imprint would take both of them away from him._

_There was no way he was telling the pack._

_He imagined how pathetic he'd sound to Bella if he ever imprinted. It would be such an easy thing to say to her; "I imprinted". And that was the worst part of it all, Jacob didn't want love to come easy, he wanted it to come hard. Like him and Bella. He wanted to fall in love with the girl, he wanted memories, and he wanted moments he'd never have with anyone else. Just like all his wonderful moments with Bella._

_Imprinting on Lakota was too simple._

_Jacob fell to his knees on Joan Carmichael's porch. "What am I going to do with you?" he whispered into his imprint's angelic face, framed in a beautiful mass of black wavy hair. "Help me, say something, tell me what to do. Are you better than the girl I drank warm sodas with in my garage?"_

"_Water… hands… big…" the sleeping girl murmured in her sleep._

_She was going to be the death of him._

* * *

><p><em>AN: Just thought I'd point out that at the end of every chapter (like this and the last one) there will always be a third person P.O.V so we can take a glimpse into Jacob's thoughts._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yes, this took me forever. I'm so terribly sorry, and I haven't really got a proper excuse. It's just that I haven't been in the 'twilight' mood lately. But now that it's up, I'm looking forward to starting on the next chapter.  
>Now, this chapter is sort of… crazy. That's all I can say. But I hope that you guys enjoy it and that it will be worth the wait. Happy new year everyone!<strong>

**Chapter 3: Blood in the Woods**

"You're going down to Seattle to stay with your uncle Jerry for a few days," my mother announced one Sunday morning, "Bertha (Jerry's wife) is sick with the flu and no one's around to keep their eye on the twins."

To hide my taken-aback expression, I looked down at my feet; which after four days since their burn, the toes had turned a lovely shade of red, not to mention the blisters that popped up all over them. They were just absolutely fabulous looking. Not.

But that wasn't important, not even to my mom. All she ever wanted was to please her family, and I could understand that, but sometimes she took it a step too far. Jerry and Bertha didn't need me; all they had to do was hire a babysitter until Bertha recovered. Besides, I was only sixteen and I had absolutely no experience with children. Nor was I interested in looking after them.

I had my life to live; not that it was much of a life, but it was mine and I wanted to live it.

Plucking up the courage to be honest with my mother, I met her eyes. "No, I can't."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, mom. I can't, I've got things to do."

Furrowing her eyebrows, she scrutinized my face. "Things like what exactly?"

"Things… like studying and, you know, teenage stuff."

"Does this teenage stuff have anything to do with spending time with an old lady?"

My face paled. "Mrs. Carmichael? No, what made you think that? I haven't been in there since this-" I pointed to my feet "-happened."

She smirked. "You don't think Joan doesn't talk to me?"

"No…" I trailed off, confused by her behavior.

"She called me that night you burned your toes, told me a certain someone took good care of you, doted on you as though you were special, and even took you home. And you know who that certain someone is, Lakota."

Yes, of course I did, Jacob Black.

But he hadn't doted on me at all; he had just been being kind to me, probably because of all the nasty things he'd said to me before the accident. And he took me home? Well, even I wasn't sure about that, I had just woken up on my couch. No one had said anything.

"And what's wrong with that? At least he gave a damn."

"He gave a damn? Lakota, he verbally attacked you two weeks ago! Didn't you ask me whether he was crazy? Weren't you really upset? Or am I mixing him up with someone else?"

"I-"

"No, don't answer that answer that question. I don't like Jacob Black and I don't want him anywhere near you; not in the streets, not in school and certainly not in Joan's house. He's painting it from top to bottom and while he's there, I don't want you in there."

"But mom-"

"No! Can't you see I'm protecting you? That boy has mental problems! And I'm not going to let him get to you. Now, you are going to Seattle, end of."

There were no words to describe how angry I was with my mother. I knew she was just sending me away to keep as much distance from Jacob and me as possible. Joan must've said something to her to bring out all this madness. She wasn't even this upset when I told her about the incident on the porch.

Balling my hands up into fists, I stormed out of the living room and out of the house; making sure to slam the door as loudly as I could.

Life was so unfair.

What had Joan been telling her? That Jacob and I were taken to each other and had the chemistry soul mates possessed? That we were up to no good in her kitchen and that had lead to the accident? It must've been something similar to that because I couldn't think up anything else that would work my mom up so much.

And so what if Jacob and I got on? Yeah, I still didn't like him after the way he treated me on my own porch and probably never would. But what made it their business? I was a grown girl, I was a teenager, I wasn't a baby. The choices I made were mine to make, unless they were completely reckless. Talking to Jacob was nothing! And certainly nothing compared to some of the things a lot of teenagers get up to.

It was times like these that I wanted to move out. Living alone would be so much easier.

I missed dad…

"Lakota."

It had been two hours and I was still sitting out on the porch, pissed off.

"Lakota, answer me."

"What?" I snapped, not bothering to look at her as I sat on the steps.

"I'm going to work now, but I want you to promise me that you won't do anything stupid."

It was then that I looked up at her face. "Stupid? Mom, I never do anything stupid. You know that."

She sighed. "I know honey, but you understand what I mean. Please, don't go in there. I'm terrified of anything happening to you when I'm not around. I love you."

I looked away and stared off into the distance. "Fine."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"You're a good girl," she said, bending to press a kiss to my cheek. "I'll see you later, hopefully."

And then she was gone.

And I was alone.

And Jacob arrived at Joan's.

So I went back inside to avoid temptation.

I didn't understand what was tempting me though.

So I made brownies to distract myself.

But then I realized there were too many to waste.

I knew Joan would like them…

… maybe Jacob would like them too?

But no, I promised my mother.

I wouldn't ever disobey her.

So I began to eat them.

And eat them.

And eat them.

I made it through four, but couldn't eat the rest.

Maybe Jacob would like them too?

* * *

><p>"Lakota! What a pleasant surprise," Joan greeted, smiling brightly at me.<p>

I gave her a smile in return, handing her the plate I topped with freshly baked brownies. "I thought you might enjoy these."

"Oh, lovely." She took them from me and inhaled. "They smell wonderful. Thank you dearest."

"You're always welcome, Joan. Anyway, I better go, I've got lots of housework to catch up on," I told her with a sigh.

"Can't you come in for just a little while?" she asked innocently, her green eyes boring into mine.

I took a step back. "No, I promised my mom the house would be spotless when she got home. I've been slacking a lot lately."

Of course I hadn't promised her that at all, I'd promised her a completely different thing. A thing I couldn't repeat to anyone. Not even Joan.

A crash in the kitchen startled us both and with one look at each other, we knew who it was; Jacob Black.

"Lakota, dearest." She reached for my hand with her free one, encasing it in a cold but firm grip. "Come in, just for a little while."

"I'm sorry, but I really can't."

"Nonsense! All I ask is for ten minutes of your time, that isn't much is it?"

Another crash in the kitchen had me glancing worriedly down her hall. "N-No…"

"Come on." She tugged me towards her gently. "It'll be over before you know it."

I really wanted to kill myself when I stepped inside and allowed her to shut the door behind me. This wasn't me; I wouldn't break my promise to my mother. Yet, here I was standing, the intoxicating smell of fresh paint invading my nostrils, reminding me that I had done something wrong, that I wasn't where I was supposed to be. My mother would be so disappointed in me. How could she ever trust me again?

Noticing the worried look on my face, Joan said. "Ten minutes is all I ask, now wipe that expression off your pretty face and smile for me like you always do."

Joan began walking down the hall, me trailing behind her. She paused by the living room's open door and gestured inside. "Isn't he doing a fantastic job? The color cream really suits this room; I don't know what I was thinking with pink."

"Yes," I said softly, paying no attention to the walls but to the boy who was painting them in his spoiled white t-shirt. He looked over his shoulder at me from where he was standing across the room, our eyes meeting for a moment. And my heart picked up its pace from that action alone.

"Come," Joan said loudly, snapping me out of it and I quickly looked away, my cheeks burning.

She proceeded to show me the kitchen, explaining how much she loved the yellow paint and how glad she was that Jacob agreed to do the job for her. With a wide smile on her face, she threw so many questions at me, most of them revolving around her 'amazing' painter. But I knew better than to act interested, after all, wasn't she the one who'd made up all those things about Jacob doting on me? What would be next?

It was when we both sat down at the kitchen table that it dawned on me; I was playing into Joan's hands.

She knew all along that my mom didn't want me in here around Jacob, and yet she insisted I come in and offer her my company. Joan was up to something, I didn't know what it was, but she was definitely up to something. And now I was screwed because I was too stupid to realize it in the first place.

What was I going to do?

The doorbell answered my question for me.

Joan's grandson Tyson arrived, bags and all, wearing the biggest smile on his face. He was quite a nice looking guy; brown curly hair, big green eyes, strong jaw structure, great smile. And he was also sharply dressed in a pair of black khakis, a matching black shirt and brown leather shoes. Yes, Tyson was the type of guy that knew how to look good. I was even admiring him, despite the fact that I was a girl.

Tyson _also_ had a great personality; very friendly, lively and outgoing. He introduced himself in the most charming manner, sat down in the most proper way and spoke in the most perfect voice. This twenty-something guy knew how to start a conversation and keep it going.

And this twenty-something guy was just like his grandmother Joan.

When Joan left the kitchen for a moment, he turned to me. "I hope she's not driving you insane, it couldn't be healthy for a young girl such as yourself hanging around an old lady like her."

I laughed a little too loud in response.

"Tyson!" Joan walked back into the kitchen, grinning. "I want you to meet Jacob, the lovely fellow who agreed to paint my house _and_ to put up with me."

And in walked Jacob with all his muscularity.

And gone went my laughter when my eyes settled on his.

There was a fire burning in them.

Tyson got up out of his seat to shake hands with Jacob, while Jacob only gave him a glance before returning his eyes to mine. They were searching, looking for something in my grey ones, and because I didn't understand, I broke eye contact and stared down at my hands folded in my lap.

"Lakota, dearest, would you slice this cake for me while I make us all some coffee?"

I nodded, took the knife from Joan and sunk it into the strawberry cake.

"Mrs. Carmichael, thank you for your offer, but I really need to get back to work. The room is almost done."

"Nonsense, Jacob! Sit down, relax, I haven't even offered you anything since your arrival."

"No really," he said hoarsely. "Thank you."

I looked up just in time to see him rush out of the room and cut my finger because of my momentary forgetfulness of what I was doing.

"Are you alright?" Tyson asked, concerned, eyeing my finger as I stared down at it.

"I'm fine." It was just a little cut, nothing to worry about, happened all the time

"Not another accident!" Joan exclaimed, coming to stand by me.

"It's nothing, really." I said dismissively. "Don't worry about me, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for years."

And years was right, mother was never home, always at work.

Joan squeezed my shoulder. "I'm glad you're alright. Jacob seemed embarrassed, didn't he?"

I shrugged.

"How about you take a slice of cake into him? He'd probably prefer to eat alone."

"I should really get going," I said, suddenly remembering.

"Stay," Tyler said, smiling. "I haven't even gotten to know you."

"Lakota here has a lot of housework to do, god love her."

"Yeah…" I trailed off, moving to stand up.

"Well take this into Jacob on your way out, will you? And thanks ever so much for the brownies. You're a doll."

"I'll be seeing you," Tyson called after me, a smile in his voice.

As I walked down the hall, towards the living room, I was tempted to just run home. But something stopped me from doing so, I could only describe it as a pulling sensation on my chest and it brought me closer and closer to Jacob. Maybe it was because I was thankful he'd been so kind to me the time I burnt my feet or maybe it was because I didn't want any hard feelings between us, whatever it was, it felt right and before I knew it, I was standing in the middle of the freshly painted room, the plate shaking in my hands.

"Lakota." Jacob sighed, turning around. "What are you doing?"

"Bringing you in some cake…"

He nodded, took the plate from my hands and set it down on the mantelpiece behind him. "You didn't have to do that."

I looked away. "I know."

"You didn't have to come here either."

My eyed snapped around, my eyes flashing to his. "What do you mean by that?"

"You _know_ what I mean by that."

But Jacob couldn't have heard what my mother had made me promise. He hadn't even been there at the time.

"I'm sorry Jacob, but I don't," I said, taking a step back. "I have to go, bye."

Jacob snatched hold of my wrist, halting me. "Everything isn't what it seems, Lakota."

My eyebrows drew together in wonder and confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"That's for you to figure out," he said, brown eyes boring down into mine.

It was when I standing right there in front of him, at exactly two-fifteen in the afternoon, that I first felt this unexplainable burning in my heart. Starting right from within my chest and spreading throughout my whole being. At first, I remained still as his fingers tightened around my wrist, but when the fire consumed me and my heart palpitated in the oddest way, I gasped louder than I normally would, and clutched at my left breast.

I was positive I was going to pass out.

At the suddenness of my strange reaction, Jacob's eyes widened and I was pulled into his chest; the warmth of his skin soaking through his thin t-shirt, enveloping me. My gasps and moans of fear and fright muffled against him, as he began to stroke my back with a shaky hand, the other holding me tightly around the waist.

This lasted for about five minutes, before my heart-rate died down and pumped at its normal pace. However, my arms and legs had grown weak from whatever had happened to me and I remained slumped against Jacob, feeling comforted in his embrace.

"I thought I'd- Oh! What… Lakota? Dearest? Black, is everything alright?"

"I don't know," Jacob told her gravely.

"Shall I fetch her some water? She looks so lifeless-"

"-I'm taking her home," he interjected, lifting me off my feet and into his arms in one swift motion. "I'll be back."

He began to walk, but Joan had to put in yet another word. "It seems you're always taking her home, Black," she remarked, voice laced in suspicion.

But he ignored this and walked on past her.

Upon reaching my front door, Jacob tried twisting the handle, but it was clear the door was locked. So without asking, he slipped his hand inside my pocket, found the key and let us in. All the while I remained both silent and motionless.

Kicking the door shut behind us, he took me into the living room and lay me down on the couch; making sure my head was supported by a cushion, like a perfect gentleman.

"I don't know if I should get you anything… medicine I mean," he said unsurely, standing by me.

And then I wept.

I wept because I was terrified it was going to happen again, because it was such a horrible feeling to experience, because I was afraid of being alone. Jacob wouldn't be around if it were to happen again and neither would my mother, I'd be all by my lonesome.

I was going to die alone.

Turning onto my side, I buried my face into the cushion, not wanting him to see me cry. I hated to cry in front of others, I found it so embarrassing and so humbling. It put me in such a vulnerable and pitiful state; one of the many reasons why I hated remembering the incident in the kitchen. And I always made sure to hide my feelings when I was upset, except around Jacob. Yes, this would be his second time to see me cry in less than a week.

"Lakota," he said softly, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Don't cry."

But I continued to cry.

"What happened there, it's nothing to worry about, it's not life threatening."

Words would not find me.

"It burns, but it doesn't kill. I promise."

Confused, I waited for him to speak again as the tears still flowed.

"Your heart beats for one, Lakota. But not for you."

At this, I looked over my shoulder at him and asked. "Who does your heart beat for then, Jacob?"

"I'll tell you, someday."

"There'll be a someday?"

He smiled a fine smile. "That's for me to know, and you to find out."

"Am I going to die, Jacob?"

I thought he wasn't going to answer my question because he turned away and began to leave. But when he reached the doorway, he paused.

"No," he told me. "Not while I'm still alive."

* * *

><p>The following week passed by painfully slow; I cleaned, I cooked, I took walks and I stayed away from Joan's. In fact, each and every day I would wake up expecting Joan to phone my mom and tell her I had been over when I shouldn't have been, but to my surprise she never did. This both relieved me and confused me. Had Joan been innocent all along?<p>

On the upcoming Saturday, I was being sent to my uncle Jerry's against my own will. You see, I was supposed to have gone Monday, but Jerry had called to tell us Bertha wasn't feeling so ill anymore. But that was short-lived; her flu had actually come back full force on Thursday, one-hundred times worse than before, that she ended up having to go stay with her sister.

So it was up to me to take care of the twins while their father worked. Wonderful.

And the worst part was that I had no idea how long I was going for. I just prayed to the heavens above that Bertha would make a full recovery as soon as possible.

But what was the rush? I should've been happy I was doing something during my summer holiday, even if it was looking after two extremely wild five-year-olds. Last summer, all I did was whine and complain about spending it in La Push. No wonder my mom had a migraine that year. But now… I didn't know what it was, but I suddenly felt attached to the rez.

It was Friday night; I had just been to the local store and was walking the ten minute walk home. I had been craving ice-cream all day, so after sunset I decided to buy a pot of Ben & Jerry's and indulge myself. The street was unusually quiet, except for the chirping of crickets everywhere, and realizing that I was the only person out, I pushed my feet faster, a sudden sense of fear overcoming me.

The problem was I couldn't escape the lurking woods. No matter which path I took, its dull and dark wilderness was always by my side.

I wasn't one to be afraid of the bush, I had lived surrounded by it my whole life. But there was just something about this night that left me feeling uneasy.

Deciding I couldn't take it any longer, I took the right turn that leads me down to First Beach. I could hear sounds of talking, music and laughter in the near distance, and I knew that there must be a group down at the beach. This offered me some relief, but the more I walked, the more I felt that someone or something was watching me.

Then I heard a rustling coming from across the road by the tree line and I ran.

By the time I neared the happy group of teenagers, I was a breathless mess. I couldn't even make out who anyone was as my eyesight had grown blurry. All I could think about was the fact that I was safe.

"Lakota?" a familiar voice called.

I couldn't respond, I couldn't breathe, and my heart was beating too fast.

"Lakota!" another familiar voice boomed.

My knees buckled beneath me, I gasped and then my head hit the sand.

Everything went black.

As I regained consciousness, my body still felt limp and my eyes still not ready to open. But my hearing was at full attention.

"I should call her mom," a voice said.

"No, just go, I'll look after her," another responded, deeper than the other.

"Dude, she's shaken up! Something must've happened! Her mom needs to know ASAP!"

"No, no, nothing happened. She's fine."

"What the hell?"

"Seth, go!"

"She's my classmate! I can't just leave her here _with_ _you_."

Shuffling, footsteps, whispers, and a hiss followed. However, I couldn't make out any of what was exchanged between Seth and whomever he was talking to.

Next, I was lifted up off the ground and into warm arms, my cheek resting against a burning chest. This all seemed awfully familiar to me, but my thoughts were a jumbled mess so I found it hard to put the pieces together.

"Lakota, can you hear me?" my captor asked after a while.

My eyes fluttered open at last and I found myself gazing into none other than Jacob Black's eyes. "J-Jacob? What…" I turned my head, scanning the area, wondering where I was. Apparently, I was in the woods. "Why are we… what…? Jacob…"

"Look, I don't know _anything_. It's your fault I'm wasting my time here with you. What happened?"

The bitter tone to his voice took me aback. "I-I don't know, I…" and then it all came back to me; the store, the ice cream, the walk, the woods, the stalker… "…the woods, Jacob."

He rolled his eyes. "What are you on about? I haven't got all day."

"Somebody…" I trailed off, knowing he didn't care to hear what happened. I'd save it for mom later.

"Somebody what?" he spat out.

"Nothing!" I pushed at his firm chest, signaling for him to let me down. "Let me go!"

He held me tighter. "Stop!"

"No! Let me go, put me down! Jacob!"

"Stop it! Stop struggling! Lakota!"

I squirmed all around in his arms, trying to get loose. But Jacob was too strong, it was no use. "Jacob, put me down right now!"

"No!" he shouted so loud that I flinched and coiled away from his menacing stare.

Under the blue hue of the mystical moonlight, Jacob's face appeared hard and worn. The dark circles under his eyes signifying his lack of sleep and the permanent scowl he wore implying he'd seen better days. He was still beautiful nonetheless, that strong jawbone always got me, but Jacob's beauty only ran skin deep. His soul was ugly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Shut up, Jacob."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Now for the very last time, _put_ _me_ _down_!"

"Answer my fucking question and I'll put you down!"

"No, just-" I pushed at his chest again, his dark skin turning red at the pressure of my hands "-put me down!"

And then he dropped me to the floor, except this time I didn't hit my head, but I hit everywhere else.

I looked up at him, angry tears filling my eyes and his lip trembled, his eyes sparkled, but before I could see any emotion come to his face, he turned and ran away.

"I won't forget this, Jacob!" I called after him, disgusted. "I won't forget how you hurt me out here, and how you left me out here, feeding me to all the creatures lurking in the woods. You're a pathetic excuse for a man, Jacob! You're going to be the death of me, I can feel it! Every time I'm around you something bad happens! My mother was right; I should keep away from you! I'm so glad you've done this to me! Now I know who you really are, who-"

"Stop!" he screamed, suddenly by my side; hands in his hair, pulling at it from the roots. "Stop! Stop! Stop!"

I scrambled away from him, afraid of what he was capable of.

I was right; he was crazy.

But he was driving me crazy. "Kill me, Jacob. I know you want to. Do it," I hissed like a lunatic, standing on wobbly legs.

"Lakota! Stop! Stop! I can't take it! Stop!" he was begging, on his knees with his head in his hands. Choking sounds coming from him.

"You did this, you were following me! You hate me, you've hated me ever since that day on my porch." I was crying now, but so far from acknowledging it. "You dropped me now because you wanted to hurt me, to cause damage. Would it make you happy to see me in a wheelchair, Jacob? Would it?"

Jacob fell forward, his face in the earth as he started to weep. The muscles in his naked back trembling as the cries shook his body.

Seeing him in such a broken state only escalated my anger towards him. Jacob Black made me feel things no one else had ever made me feel. Actually, I hadn't even ever experienced this sort of anger my whole entire life; it coursed through my veins at lightning speed, causing an internal burn within me. I was ready to explode.

I just couldn't get over the fact that he had dropped me. A huge man like him dropping a fragile girl like me was just unacceptable. He could've easily broken me from the height he allowed me allowed to fall from. I was lucky I had no serious injuries, except for a few bruises and cuts. I was so damn lucky. But I just couldn't believe he'd do that; physically hurt me. I was even considering not telling my mom because I was so ashamed I was with him after everything she said. Then again, it hadn't been voluntary. He found me passed out on the beach… and so had Seth!

"_You_ should have left me! Not Seth!" I shouted down at him. "Seth is more of a man then you'll ever be. You disgust me."

He groaned out painfully, his body beginning to shake.

"I hope you rot here, Jacob, out in the woods. Just like the filthy creature you are."

I was going too far, I knew I was. But I was so angry; I wanted to tear him apart. Then I wanted to run.

"I hate you," I whispered.

All hell broke loose.

I spun on my heel, ready to make a run for it, when I saw him begin to look up. Stupid girl, I thought I had a chance with him on the ground and me on my feet. Little did I know how wrong I was, or I would've run way before.

His hand caught me by the ankle, tripping me up, and I fell to the ground with a loud thump. Despite the pain, I tried to crawl away from him on the muddy ground, but he was already next to me, his arms tightening around my waist, holding me firmly in place. I struggled, my legs kicking around like a baby, but it was no use, he had me.

So in the awkward position I was in with his chest pressed to my back and my chest pressed to the ground, I tried the only thing that came to mind.

"Ah!" he cried, my heel connecting with his manly parts, causing him to loosen his grip on me.

And then I scrambled away as fast as I could, jumped to my feet and ran again. I could hear him coming after me, but I didn't dare look back. As I pushed my feet faster, I headed deeper and deeper into the woods, the darkness almost completely blinding me. However, I didn't let it get to me, not when there was a psychopathic painter on my trail dying to kill me.

As quickly as I could, I made a turn and when I spotted a bush, I ran up to it and hid behind it. Hoping and praying to god that Jacob hadn't seen what I'd done. But it was dark, he couldn't have.

That's when I noticed how quiet it was…

"I'm going to kill you now," a voice whispered.

I spun around, coming face to face with Jacob and my life flashed before my eyes.

"Watch me," he said, gripping my chin in his hand and forcing my face downwards.

"Jacob," I gasped, fear-stricken.

"Watch me!"

"Jacob!"

"You want this."

"No!"

But he didn't listen and plunged the hand knife into his side, blood spluttering out of him.

I was so close to fainting at the grotesque sight before me, but I wouldn't let myself, I couldn't leave him for even a second. He was right when he said he was going to kill me; seeing this made a part of me die inside.

Falling to my knees, I reached for the knife lodged deep inside of him, wanting to pull it out. But he swatted my hand away, growling out. "You hate me; you wanted this, well now you get it."

Jacob's blood began to drizzle out around the blade, flowing down over his naked skin, killing him.

"Jacob, I don't want this," I cried, reaching for the knife again.

He caught my hand and held it. "You _hate_ me!"

"I don't."

"You said you did!"

"I was angry!"

"You _meant_ it!"

I looked up into his face and saw that he was still crying, the tears running freely from his brown eyes. My heart soared. "Jacob, I don't hate you, I swear, I don't."

"You do."

"Jacob!" frustrated, I pressed my forehead to his abdomen and closed my eyes. "I don't hate you."

"Prove it then, Lakota. Prove it!"

"We have no time for this, Jacob." I began to cry again. "You're going to die."

"If I die, you'll be happier," he said weakly; this alerted me.

"No," I said.

"She'll be happier, everyone will be happier."

I didn't know who he was referring to, but I denied it anyway. "No."

"Nobody wants me."

"That's not true, Jacob."

"It is." He gulped.

"Your father wants you, your family wants you."

"Maybe."

"Jacob." I don't know why, but I pecked his skin; his perfect russet skin.

"Lakota…"

"Your wife will want you someday; your children will want you someday."

Those twelve words saved Jacob's life.

* * *

><p><em>A wounded Jacob Black carried a horror stricken Lakota Reeves all the way home. They spoke not a word to each other and when he set her down on her front porch, he kissed her cheek before she turned away from him. He couldn't tell what she thought of the gesture, she was a mess, but somewhere deep inside of him he hoped she liked it. <em>

"_Jacob," she said worriedly when she reached the front door, glancing down at his gaping wound._

"_Don't worry," he told her, offering her a reassuring smile._

_She brought a hand up to her mouth to muffle a sob and his whole body cried out at seeing her so sad and so broken. But he remained still and kept himself composed. His poor imprint had seen enough of his madness._

"_Please, Jacob."_

_He shook his head, "No, Lakota. I'll be OK."_

"_Jacob." Her eyes were red rimmed from all the tears she cried._

_Lakota wanted to take him to hospital, just like any sane human being would, but Jacob refused. His werewolf healing would look incredibly suspicious to the doctors and nurses. So he'd just call Carlisle Cullen over to his house for a checkup. But he knew he'd be fine, the blade didn't penetrate him as deeply as it appeared to._

"_Trust me."_

_Defeated, Lakota nodded and turned around to unlock the door. Jacob took that as his cue to leave, but couldn't bring himself to. He wanted to watch her._

"_I'll see you, Jacob," she whispered as she began to close over the door._

"_I'll see you too, I promise."_

"_Goodnight, Jacob."_

"_Goodnight, Lakota."_

_All alone once again, Jacob turned on his heel and began the walk home. _

_Upon reaching his home, he decided to enter through the back door so as his father wouldn't die of a heart attack at the sight of his wounded and bloody son. There was no mistaking that his injury wasn't a result of a vampire attack, or even an attack from one of the pack members. That it had been a direct and very human attempt at taking a life. The crazy part being it was he who had intended to take his own._

_The wound burnt and hurt like hell, but Jacob could feel his insides healing themselves and coming together again. He believed he would be fine as soon as morning came._

_But Carlisle Cullen had a completely different story to tell Jacob._

"_Infected?" the young wolf cried out in disbelief sometime around midnight._

"_I'm afraid so, Jacob."_

"_What does that mean? Am I going to die?"_

"_**Not while I'm still alive," **__he remembered himself saying to Lakota a week ago when she had asked him that exact question._

_Carlisle shook his head. "Not if you take your medication at the times I'll instruct you."_

"_So that's it? Medication, that's all I need?"_

"_We'll see," was all the vampire said._

_It was three in the morning when Jacob finally got himself comfortable in his tiny bed. His bandaged wound was irritating him and he had a need to tear it off, to get the annoying material off of him. But he knew he needed to be obedient or he'd never recover. Stupid boy never thought of what the consequences of stabbing yourself with a dirty knife would be._

_And then as he laid there, eyes closed, he allowed himself to feel the things he should be feeling for his imprint. However, this only made him feel worse. He was overcome with this extreme want and need to be with her and before he knew it, he was gasping for air. His heart beating so inhumanly fast that he thought it would break from his chest._

_Image after image of them together flashed before his eyes; cuddling, swimming, dining, playing, touching, hugging, kissing, loving. So many possibilities, so close but so out of reach. He did not love this girl, nor did he know this girl, but she made him feel things even Bella hadn't. _

_When Jacob thought of Bella, he felt love and attraction. He wanted her to want him; he wanted to be her first choice. And he wanted everything a relationship could offer with Bella; including sex. Yes, he had imagined Bella naked and trembling beneath him as he moved inside her. That fantasy alone was one of Jacob's biggest wishes… once. But now? He couldn't even go there._

_Did he want to do that with Lakota? No._

_But that didn't make any sense, she was his imprint. Ah, but then Jacob realized what was wrong there. He didn't want to pound his innocent imprint into his white sheets; he wanted to make love her tenderly. He wanted to handle her with care and he wanted… he wanted…_

"_No," he groaned._

_Jacob wanted her to carry his children._

"_Oh god no, what's wrong with me?" he felt like crying._

_The door opened, Billy appeared. "Son, get some sleep."_

_And blocking those thoughts from his head as he usually did, Jacob eventually fell asleep and dreamt of Lakota._

_When he woke up the next morning, he believed he was going to die._

_Carlisle was called immediately._


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Just wanted to thank you all for the reviews, story alerts and favorites. And most of all for even reading this story. I couldnt reply to your reviews, unfortunately. Internet is really messed up here at the moment. So instead of trying to reply to you all this time around (which takes me ages, because the pages load really slow), I decided I'd just post this. Hope you all enjoy, thanks again.  
><strong>

**Chapter 4: Till Death Do Us Part**

My uncle Jerry told me I could go home Friday night since he had the weekend off, so I jumped on the chance and took a taxi back to La Push. The ride took longer than usual; three hours. But time was irrelevant to me, I was just so happy I was free. Five days looking after two very hyperactive children wore me out and although I loved the twins to bits, I needed a break. Especially while there was so much stuff going on in my head.

I couldn't get that night in the woods out of my mind. It was the craziest, scariest thing I had ever experienced in my whole entire life. What he had done, stabbing himself in the side, was so wrong. The image of it haunted me throughout the day and tainted my dreams at night. One morning I woke up and in the middle of taking a shower, I felt that burn in my chest start again. It hadn't lasted as long as the first time, but still freaked me out nonetheless. I had a feeling it was linked to Jacob… somehow.

And during the times when I was alone and the children were busy eating or playing, I'd worry about his well being, whether everything was alright and if he was back to doing his job at Joan's. He said he'd be seeing me, he promised. But I was so far away.

I wasn't really sure how I felt about him; one minute I loathed his guts, next I cared about him more than I should. It was just so confusing.

Oh, but I was so worried and had no way of contacting him without looking suspicious.

That was the main reason I had to go home; I needed to make sure he was OK.

"Lakota!" mom pulled me into a hug the minute I stepped out of the taxi. I was surprised she wasn't working. "I missed you so much!"

I told her I missed her too and then we headed inside. The house smelt like it always did; of plants. My mom had this thing about flowers; she was obsessed by them and made sure every room had one. Personally, I thought she went a little overboard but I kept my mouth shut. Whatever made her happy…

"So how are they?" she asked after I had taken a shower.

I shrugged, plopping down next to her on the couch. "They're alright, Jerry's worried, can't blame him."

"Bertha will be alright, it's just the flu."

"Yeah, but she's not dealing with it too well," I said, picking up the remote and flicking through the channels. "It's getting worse."

"Lakota…" she started hesitatingly.

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. "What?"

"Did you hear?"

This time I turned to look at her. "Hear what?"

"Honey…" her voice shook. "Jacob Black is dying."

The burning, the aching, the palpitating of my heart… I curled up in on myself, my breaths coming out raggedly and my blood running cold. I wanted to cry out, I needed help, but my voice wouldn't find me and my eyes were unmoving. I was frozen. And I heard my mom speaking to me, I felt her hand on my skin, she was panicking. She shook me, she was in front of me, and she was hugging me. But I was dying, couldn't she see that?

I screamed, she was pouring freezing water over my head, drenching me. I screamed again, because the pain in my chest was excruciating. Then I felt her clutching my bicep, begging me to tell her what was wrong, when she should've known all along. Jacob Black was different, he wasn't like anybody else, and when Jacob came into my life, he did something to me. Nobody knew this, not even me, until my mother told me he was dying.

I couldn't let him die. He couldn't die. I needed him. I needed him to be alive. Why? I didn't know. I just needed him to be alive!

"Mommy!" I yelled, but no sound come out, only a choke.

"Lakota, Lakota! Look at me honey, look at me. Don't do this; don't give in. Look at me, Lakota."

My teeth began to chatter. "Mommy," this time it came out as a weak whisper.

"Lakota, I'm here, Lakota."

"Jacob."

* * *

><p>I have never been in love, nor have I ever felt close to falling in love. Yes, I've had my fair share of crushes on celebrities and boys in school, but I never fell in too deep. Unlike the other girls I knew, they had all fallen in love more than once in their short lifetimes. They'd tell me their stories all the time, stories I've heard more than enough. It seemed they wanted to impress me, to try and make me jealous. But what they didn't know was that I wasn't a jealous person. In fact, I couldn't care for love. I didn't believe in love.<p>

If love was real, then why did it always end badly? Wasn't it supposed to true? Wasn't it supposed to be something special shared between two people? So why would you let something _special_ go? It all just didn't make sense, which is why I'm an unbeliever. Love is just a fantasy.

But when I woke up the morning after I'd heard the devastating news about Jacob, I remembered my dream; I dreamt I was in love. Who I had been in love with was a mystery to me; he'd been a faceless man. However, the feelings I had had for him seemed so real that I could still feel them in reality. And for just a split second, I believed in love.

And then it was gone, replaced by thoughts of Jacob dying in his bed.

This time around I experienced no internal attack, but my body started to move on its own accord, pulling me out of bed and over to the window in my room that looked out onto Joan's backyard. And out in her backyard stood Jacob chatting to Tyler.

Jacob was in Joan's backyard. Jacob wasn't at home ill. Jacob wasn't dying. My mom must've gotten it all wrong. It was probably just a rumor.

But I had to make sure. I just had to.

"Lakota?" Tyler asked in disbelief as I climbed over the fence that separated our backyards.

Ignoring him, I jumped down and rushed over to Jacob who stood stiffly next to the twenty-something grandson. Something in his eyes wiped the smile off of my face, they seemed guarded somehow… and older. Jacob looked older. But this didn't stop me from approaching him, from touching him. My hands were already on his strong biceps, clad in the brown leather of his jacket. "Jacob!" I beamed. "You're OK! You're OK! I would've been up to see you, to check on you, but I was in Seattle babysitting my twin cousins, I'm so sorry! But you're OK!" I squeezed his arms, relieved. "When I came home last night, my mom told me you were dying. Oh Jacob I-"

"Lakota!" Tyler interjected, placing a hand on my shoulder, stopping me from speaking any further.

I twisted my head around to look at him, his expression a regretful one. "Y-Yes?"

He swallowed, pinched the bridge of his nose, glanced down at his feet and back up at me again. "What your mother told you…" he trailed off and looked at Jacob, as though seeking permission to finish off his sentence.

Jacob spoke. "I _am_ dying, Lakota."

All the relief I had felt when I saw him standing there with Tyler was replaced once again with fear. Every cell in my fragile body burning, setting my blood on fire and in turn, my heart began to palpitate. I was so close to losing it like I had the previous night with mom, so very close. But having only inches separating both Jacob and I, I managed somehow to keep my cool, although I couldn't stop my skin from flushing. I knew without looking at myself in a mirror that my face was red and my neck was blotchy. Just like every time I had and/or was close to having an internal attack.

Staring up into his always beautiful face, I noticed that the light in his eyes was gone, and all that was left was darkness. The way he gazed down at me gave me no feeling, not even nervousness, it just frightened me. It was as if he had no soul and that the only thing he did have was a beating heart to keep him alive, devoid of emotions. Unlike the Jacob I had exchanged words and glances with over the past few weeks; he had always had a gleam in his sparkling dark orbs. A gleam I never realized I had grown addicted to until now.

Jacob _was_ dying; it explained the aging on his once youthful face.

"… I'm going to fetch you a glass of water, you just wait right here, I'll only be a minute," Tyler was saying, settling me down on the wooden bench against the back wall. I hadn't even realized I had spaced out.

I stared blindly down at the green grass, my thoughts all jumbled together.

A warm hand was on my neck and warm breath was tickling my ear, there were words spoken but I could no longer hear. I wasn't functioning properly. And my blood turned to lava as I felt a warm body press against my side and another warm hand pushing the hair out of my face, the strong scent of leather invading my nostrils and filling my lungs.

Then I felt a glass being pressed to my lips and water filling my mouth slowly, but my throat was constricting and I began to choke.

The loud sound of smacking against my back finally brought me out of my abnormal reverie and my eyes widened as I began coughing up blood into the palm of my hand.

"It's OK, Lakota. Your throat is just a little sore, nothing to worry about. You'll be fine, you're OK." Tyler's cold hand came up to rest on my forehead. "You're cooling down, that's good. Here, drink this." He handed me the glass of water.

I took it from him with a shaky hand, stared down at it and then looked to my side up into Jacob's face. "Jacob," I croaked.

"Shhh," he hushed me, running the back of his hand down my cheek. "Drink the water, you need it."

After I emptied the glass into my stomach, Tyler took me inside, Jacob following close behind. He then told me that Joan wouldn't be home until later because he had taken her up to his sister's house and that he had to head out or he would be late for a meeting. I didn't really understand why he was telling me all of this until he said that I was more than welcome to hang out with Jacob in the empty house until he and Joan got back.

I didn't know what to say to this since Jacob and I never hung out, but Tyler seemed to have the idea that we were close and I suppose I couldn't blame him after my behavior in the back yard.

But Tyler didn't want a response from me; he seemingly didn't think he needed one as he shrugged into his black coat and said goodbye. I waited until I heard the engine of his car disappearing into the distance before I looked up at Jacob from where I was sitting in the living room.

To my complete and utter shock he dropped his leather jacket to the floor and pulled his t-shirt over his head. My eyes flew to his side where the scar would be, but from the angle he was standing in, I could barely see anything, all was hidden under a shadow.

When I looked up into his old eyes, I found him watching me, searching for something in my face. I wanted to ask him what it was he was looking for, but I couldn't speak. To be alone with him in a house had made me both nervous and afraid. I was nervous because I had never been alone in a house with a man before and I was afraid because I kept imagining him dropping dead at any given minute.

If he died, what would I do?

My heart…

"I'm infected," he told me, breaking the silence. "The knife was dirty, the germs got into my bloodstream, tainting it. The doc gave me medication to help me fight it, but my body didn't agree with the pills so I vomited them back up. He gave me another set of pills, same thing happened. After that, he tried injecting me with fluids, but they didn't work. Basically, he tried everything he could, even a blood transfusion, but nothing worked. So now I've got some sort of disease, guess you could call it an extreme infection, and slowly but surely I'm going to get really sick and it's going to kill me. Nothing can prevent it from happening."

"… I don't know what to say, Jacob," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I willed my body to remain calm.

Sooner or later I was going to have a heart attack.

Jacob sauntered over to me, stopping just before his knees brushed mine and twisted his body around, revealing the side that he had stabbed himself in. The wound itself was covered with a small bandage, but he wasted no time in peeling it backwards to show me what it had turned into; an ugly purple scar about ten centimeters wide that left his skin folded and wrinkled. It was quite grotesque to look at, but what I couldn't understand was how it had healed so quickly.

Impulsively, I reached out to trace the scar with my index finger. "Unbelievable," I whispered, my voice coming out shaky.

"I'm not your average Joe," Jacob whispered back, his hand coming down to cover the scar up again.

My fingers flew to his middle, just beneath his bellybutton and I unconsciously moved them around in circles, enjoying the warmth and silkiness of his unmarred skin. It wasn't until I felt the prickliness of his treasure trail against my palm that I realized what I was doing and snatched my hand back, mortified.

"Jacob I-"

"I know," he said, cutting me off.

I looked up into his face, the rays of sunlight filtering through the open window behind me highlighting his perfectly perfect lips and the brown eyes that no longer had a gleam in them. Momentarily stunned by his beauty, I forgot what I had intended to say to him and felt an ache in my chest as I acknowledged the fact that soon this amazing male specimen would no longer be.

Suddenly, I was overcome with the sort of anger that only ever came out when I was outraged. "You're going to die, because of an infection?" I asked him, disbelievingly. "An _infection_? Doesn't that sound sort of… shady? Like maybe the doctor was lying to you? It's the twenty-first century Jacob; surely there was something they could do. It's not like someone injected you with AIDS or something."

"Lakota don't question me."

"I have every right to!" I stood up, my face level with his chest and looked up-up-up, until our eyes were burning into one another's. "What sort of infection are you talking about? What-"

"You do not have a right, Lakota! Last time I checked, we're not friends, nor are we related. And the infection I have was caused by _filth_! And by god, if you ever come across the germs that were on that knife, I swear on my heart and soul that I'll-" he cut himself off this time, gritted his teeth and looked away.

A moment of silence passed between us.

It seemed to last forever.

But he'd be dead by then.

So I told him what was on my mind, before I regretted never saying it to him.

"I have every right to question you, Jacob, because this is all my fault. If I hadn't ran all the way to First Beach because I thought someone was following me and passed out, this wouldn't have happened. All of this." I gestured between us. "You wouldn't have carried me into the woods, I wouldn't have fought with you, we wouldn't have acted like two twelve year olds and you wouldn't have stabbed yourself. Everyone knows you've gone through stuff in the past, Jacob. And I should've remembered that before I took that hissy fit. Yeah, you dropped me and hurt me, but I should've kept my mouth shut in the first place. I shouldn't have told you I hated you when it wasn't true. You were already down in the dumps; I shouldn't have made you feel worse. And now you're dying… because of me."

"That's- that's not true," he said, taking a step back.

"It is, I'm so sorry." I brought my hands up to my face, too shamed to look at him or anywhere. "I'm a killer. I'm so sorry. I can never forgive myself. This is all my fault."

"It isn't."

"It is!" I cried, feeling so helpless. How could I live with the guilt?

"Lakota!" he tore my hands away from my face and held them in his, but I refused to look at him and stared down at the wooden floor instead. "Look at me, Lakota! Don't you dare look away! Lakota!"

I tried to move away from him but ended up stumbling backwards and falling back into the armchair with a thud. Jacob pounced on me like a cat, his knees on either side of mine and his hands grabbing hold of my face, forcing me to stare into his eyes as the legs of the armchair creaked beneath our combined weight. I wriggled beneath him, desperate to get away. I needed to clear my head, I needed to be alone or I was going to have a panic attack. But Jacob wasn't going to make it easy.

"Please, let me go. I need to be alone," I begged, pleading with my eyes.

"So you can beat yourself up? No, I'm not letting that happen. We need to clear this up."

"Jacob it's my fault and you know it!"

His grip on my face tightened. "It is not your fault! I stabbed myself because I'm an idiot, alright? Did you tell me to stab myself? No. This is my problem, a problem that I have to live with for the time being and eventually die-"

"-Don't!" I couldn't bear to hear him finish that sentence.

"What are you going to do when I die? Mope around feeling guilty? Consider suicide? Throw yourself over a cliff?" he asked in disgust. "You will not do any of that. You will live and you will go to college and you will be the good girl you always were and you'll eventually marry someone… someone like Tyler, a nice guy, and you'll…"

"I don't want to marry someone like Tyler," I told him, surrounded by his musky scent.

Letting go of my face, he cupped my neck in his large hands and leaned forward so that our foreheads touched. "Of course you don't want to marry someone like Tyler; your heart does not belong to him."

"I don't want to marry anyone."

He chuckled. "But you do."

"I really don't."

"If I asked you to marry me now, would you say no?"

I shook my head. "I'd marry you because that's all I'd have to offer."

"Would that make you feel better? To marry me before I die?"

"No."

"Oh?"

"It wouldn't make me feel better about myself, but it'd make me feel better about you. That night in the woods you told me no one wants you, I told you your future wife and children will. But now… well now that's impossible. So if I married you… well, you wouldn't die alone. I'd be keeping to my word, sort of."

Shifting above me, he tilted his head and leaned in further, rubbing his cheek against mine. "As my wife, would you want me?" he asked breathily.

"How long do you have, Jacob?"

"A month… maybe less, maybe more."

"Is that long enough for me to grow to want you?"

He leaned back to stare into my eyes. "It's enough for you to grow to love me."

"I don't believe in love, Jacob."

"You'll believe in it when I show you."

I blushed, completely flustered by his seductive tone and words, and in turn, dropped my gaze to the pulse in his neck, which was jumping rather quickly for a person in such a relaxed state. "You're very sure of yourself, aren't you?" I asked rhetorically, gazing back up at him through my eyelashes, hoping he wouldn't notice how red my cheeks had turned.

"Not of myself, but of you," he whispered, taking my hand in his and moving off of me, only to pull me up with him and take me away.

* * *

><p>We were in Joan's bedroom an hour now; me sitting in her rocking chair by the corner and Jacob down the end of the room painting. I didn't really understand what I was doing there or why he wanted me there, but I was quite content to sit and watch him as he worked. Probably because lately, I couldn't help but notice what a fine looking young man he was.<p>

Dumping the bucket of rose colored paint down by the corner adjacent to the one I was occupying, Jacob began to paint the very last wall which was still a boring shade of grey. I watched him; his movements unexpectedly graceful for such a massive person. I also found myself watching the muscles in his back flex and the muscles in his arms clench as he became engrossed in his work. Jacob was dangerous in my eyes, there was just something about him that screamed 'run', yet I couldn't put my finger on what it was.

Perhaps it was the recklessness that always seemed to surface whenever I was around him for too long, like that time in the woods. Or it might be the scruffy look he had, along with the endless amount of muscles and his impossible height. I really wasn't sure, but I had a feeling Jacob was bad news.

Whenever he bent down to switch brushes, he'd look over his shoulder at me and catch me staring. There'd be no point in my turning away, so I'd just blush and smile, while he'd just smirk knowingly at me and go back to what he was doing. I didn't want to give him the impression that I _liked_ him, but I couldn't help but admire him from where I sat.

I hoped he didn't think much of it.

"…Lakota, Lakota, Lakota…" I woke up with a start, finding Jacob leaning down to me, chuckling. I must've dozed off.

"Oh, uh, sorry," I mumbled, shifting into a more comfortable position. Wincing as I turned my neck, it felt so stiff. Must've been from whatever way I slept.

"I thought I'd wake you up before you started drooling on Mrs. Carmichael's furniture."

I managed a short giggle, but couldn't help but feel slightly nauseous. This happened whenever I napped, I'd always wake up feeling dizzy, sort of like motion sickness you get during journeys in a car or an airplane.

"Jacob," I said tiredly, reaching up to touch his cheek. "Why aren't you in bed, sick and helpless, just like any dying person? This couldn't be good for you."

In response, Jacob flinched and pushed my hand away. "I told you, I'm dying slowly. I'll probably be like that in two weeks." I could tell he was touchy about the subject, but I kept at him. Why? I did not know.

"I'm going to feel so bad, so guilty, so… torn, when you die," I said, my heart beginning to palpitate and tears filling my eyes."I don't know you, Jacob. And our time together has been short and mostly unpleasant, but I don't want you to die. You're so young." I reached up again to touch his stubbly cheek, but he swatted at my hand.

"Don't," he warned, stretching back up to his full height and stepping away. "Don't touch me."

"You're always touching me," I pointed out, irritated.

"No I do not."

"You do, you can't take your hands off of me."

It was so unlike me to be blunt and straightforward, but waking up in a room with Jacob had given me some sort of push. Then again, I was never myself around him, was I?

"Oh so you want to touch me, do you?" he asked, his voice challenging. "Or is it that you want _me_ to touch _you_? Spit it out, Lakota."

I rolled my eyes, got up and headed for the door. But he reached it first, kicked it shut and double locked it. "Stop this nonsense."

"Come on," he whispered, coming up to me, almost pressing himself against me. "Tell me; after all you're the one who kissed my body."

"I kissed you out of pity, Jacob!"

"I highly doubt that." He smirked. "Anywhere else you want to kiss?"

Looking up into his face, I glared into his eyes and said in disgust. "I'll kiss you on the cheek, just like you did me, when you're _dead_. Because then you'll just be a corpse, no trace of who you ever where left in you. And who you are now is a very ugly person, a person I'd never dare to kiss again."

Nostrils flaring and eyes burning, he gritted his teeth and gave me the filthiest look I had ever received. But I stood my ground and crossed my arms, unfazed. I was sick and tired of his mood swings, they were giving me whiplash. And whenever I spent time with him, I went home feeling so worn out. He was driving me nuts. And despite how devastated I felt about him dying, I was so fed up with him. It frustrated me to no end.

"How dare you speak to me like that, like I'm just about any one!" he spat, grasping my wrist and dragging me over to the bed; which was currently covered in plastic so as to protect it from the paint. Pushing me onto it, I fell back and hit it with a loud thump, the air knocked out of me.

And then I was scared.

I lay there unmoving, waiting for him to hit me, knowing deep down that he wanted to. But the blow never came, and after several minutes passed, I realized I was crying; the tears rolling down my temples, dripping onto the plastic.

"What have you done to me?" I asked him shakily, afraid of myself, afraid of what was going on within me every since he came into my life.

When he didn't answer me, I leaned up on my elbows and found him sitting on the rocking chair; legs sprawled out in front of him and his head resting against the wooden back, eyes closed. Something about the scene before me made me imagine my life without him… made me see the rocking chair as empty with the knowledge of his death. I saw a gravestone with his name on it.

A whimper escaped me and his eyes snapped open, boring into mine. I suddenly wanted to fall into his eyes, to study them and memorize every single detail of their dark abyss. This realization brought a lump to my throat, because I was craving what I couldn't have, what I shouldn't have. One minute I hated his whole being with intensity, next I…

I scrambled up out of the bed and he shot up out of the chair, which left it rocking back and forth on its own. I needed to leave, I had to go back to Seattle, it was so far away and to be so far away was what I needed. Because I couldn't handle Jacob, he was changing me in ways I could've never imagined.

"Where are you going?" he demanded as I fumbled around with the lock.

"I…" unable to answer him, I focused on unlocking the door but it wouldn't turn for me. There was something wrong.

"Where are you going?" he repeated.

I turned my head around to look at him as he leaned against the wall next to the door. "Seattle," I said, deciding to be honest with him.

His face hardened. "You're not serious."

"I have a job to do, just like you."

"So you meant what you said?" he asked me sincerely through a tight throat, his voice coming out faint and scratchy.

With a sigh, I gave up on my attempt to unlock the door and leaned on my side against it, facing him. My mind was telling me to run, to escape him before I fell deeper into his ocean, but my heart disagreed, ordering me to stick around and listen to his every word, to keep coming back for more, more and more.

"Yes… no. I don't know." I focused my gaze on the ground, keeping my eyes anywhere but on him. "You confuse me so much, Jacob. It's like there's something going on, that there's a reason this is happening, and yet I don't even understand anything. But I feel like you do."

"I told you I'd tell you someday," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That was when you had your whole life ahead of you," I reminded him, feeling a pang in my chest at the truth behind those words.

There was a moments silence before he spoke again. "Do you want me to tell you now?" he asked in a whisper.

"I want you to tell me who _my_ heart beats for, Jacob."

"That wasn't what I was going-"

"I know. You were going to tell me who _your_ heart beats for."

"Do you know who it beats for then?"

It was then that I finally looked up into his eyes that were now so dull and empty. His expression was that of a sad one, and it stirred up feelings in me that I did not want.

Oh my god, he was going to die. Next month he would no longer be. Oh my god.

"No." Yes, maybe, I hope….

He arched a perfectly thick eyebrow at me. "And you don't want to know?"

"Jacob." I pushed myself off of the door and came to stand directly in front of him, my head barely reaching his chest, he was so tall. Tilting my head back and back and back, I stared up into his eyes. "I can't let you die."

"Don't say that, don't say it when you don't mean it…" he trailed off, gulping.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier, you're not an ugly person… you're just driving me insane. And, when you're… dead, I won't be able to kiss your cheek, because I'll be breathing air into your lungs, hoping you'll come back to me… when you won't, and I'll die there with you. All that'll be left of me is a soulless body, begging for its time to come. Because my heart never belonged to me, it belonged…" I clasped a hand over my mouth, unable to believe I had just spoken those words to Jacob Black. As if he… as if he _meant_ something to me. I barely knew the guy!

"Lakota," he breathed out my name as if _I_ meant something to _him_, reaching for my hand and almost grasping it, but I snatched it away and rushed past him, stopping by the window to stare out onto the empty street. My heart beating so fast that I feared it may leap from my chest.

What had I been about to say to him? That my heart belonged to- no, I couldn't even think it, it was wrong in so many ways.

I wanted my old life back. My pre-Jacob life back, things had been so easy back then. Now things were so out of control, confusing and so very messy. I couldn't even look at Joan the same way anymore, every time I was around her I automatically grew suspicious of her intentions and that just wasn't right. I'd known her since I was a child, she was practically family! She _was_ family! And this was all because of Jacob Black. I could ignore him, keep my distance and eventually forget about him… but he was dying, I couldn't.

And deep down I knew that even if he wasn't dying, I'd keep coming around to more. Because my talks and time spent with Jacob were never enough. I always needed more and more and more, until he had nothing left to give me.

Warm arms wrapped around my midsection, snapping me out of my reverie and I screeched instinctively, having momentarily forgotten where I was and who I was with.

"Shhh," he hushed me, burying his face in the crook of my neck, nuzzling me there softly. I opened my mouth to protest against his actions, but quickly shut it when he brushed his nose over a particular sensitive spot and shivered instead.

So he did it again, again and again, until I begged him to stop. My legs had already turned to mush and I was afraid my brain was next.

"Tell me who owns your heart," he murmured, dragging his lips up my neck, over my jaw bone and to my cheek, the stubble on his chin tickling me, causing me to shiver again. At this he chuckled and kissed my flushed skin, once… twice… "Tell me," he repeated.

"J-Jacob," I stuttered, placing my hands over his arms that were wrapped around me. "You're touching me… again."

"You're mine to touch," he said lowly, kissing me on the cheek once more.

"No, Jacob, I belong to-"

"Me."

The insanity to his words and the possessiveness to his hold began to scare me, and I wondered for the hundredth time whether Jacob was crazy or not.

"I need to go," I whispered, closing my eyes, waiting for his response.

"I'll let you go if you tell me," he whispered back, somehow managing to turn me around in his arms. But I didn't want to look into his dark and dying eyes, so I rested my forehead in the valley between his pecs. My eyes still shut.

Removing an arm from around me, he brought his hand to the back of my head and began to smooth it down my hair, over and over. I liked the feeling of it and I leaned in closer to him, my nose now buried into his taut skin. He smelt of musk, mint and freshly cut grass, a scent I instantly loved and craved more than anything. I fought the urge to lick him, to taste that scent in my mouth and savor it.

Oh god, what was happening to me?

"I don't know the answer," I mumbled, feeling a little drowsy.

"You do," he said, his hand tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck and pressing me closer to him, until my cheek was resting over his heart and his hardening nipple. If I parted my lips and snuck out my tongue, I would taste…..

This was why I needed to get away. My mind was already ninety-nine percent mush.

"Jacob, my mom will kill me. I'm not supposed to be here with you." I figured I might as well be honest with him since I had told him about my mother's dislike towards him in the woods that night.

I then felt him let go of me completely, before both his hands came to rest on my shoulders just as quickly. He moved me away from him, so as to look into my face, but I kept my head bowed. "Lakota, look at me." I ignored him and kept my gaze on his boots, terrified of what was to come. I felt this was a build up to something. "Look at me!" he ordered.

But I refused and shrugged his hands off of me, heading once more for the door. He never made any move to stop me, probably because he knew that there was no way I'd manage to unlock the door. However, after I slammed my fist against it, the key turned and as quickly as I could manage, unlocked it and swung it open.

I ran down the stairs at the speed of light and almost fell down the last two steps, but somehow landed on my two feet.

"Lakota!" he shouted after me in anger, his footsteps heavier than mine, causing the stairs to creak under his weight.

Pushing my feet faster, I ran towards the back door, thinking it was open and almost ran straight into the glass. But a warm hand grasped my arm and pulled me back; slamming me into the rock hard torso I had been resting against only minutes ago. I could feel him shaking against me, his brown skin on fire and his scent heightened to the point where it was consuming me completely.

This time, unlike every other time, I stood defeated in his strong hold. There would be no point in me trying to escape him again, not when this was the furthest I'd gotten from running at my highest speed. Jacob was stronger, bigger, longer and faster than I would ever be. To think I'd ever have a chance of beating him to my imaginary finish line was pathetic.

"I'm sorry," I heard myself saying.

But he didn't grace me with an answer; instead he huffed and released me, shoving my limp body away. I knew that he was angry with me for running away like that, even though I didn't quite understand why it would anger him so. After all, I was just Lakota. What did he care whether I wanted to look at him or not? The way we acted around each other was insane, as though we were a married couple with never ending troubles. When in reality, we were strangers.

It was totally screwed up.

Turning around, I found him leaning back against the wall with his head in his hands. "Jacob, I'm sorry." I walked up to him and rested my hand on his massive shoulder, which was hot to the touch. "You scared me."

"I scared you?" he asked incredulously, dropping his hands and glaring down at me. "I was holding you, I was talking to you, I was kissing you! That's scary? Give me a break."

"You're scary, Jacob. I've never met a guy like you."

He rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, Adam 's Apple bobbing in his throat. "Weeks are all I have and you're pushing me away."

"All you have for what?" I asked curiously, ignoring the pang in my heart at his words.

"Lakota." He sighed, running a hand through his shaggy, silky hair, before meeting my eyes. "Promise me something."

I furrowed my eyebrows together. "What is it?"

"Promise me that you'll come back on Wednesday morning."

"From Seattle?"

"Yes." He shivered, stuffing both his hands into his pockets. "I need you to promise me that."

"I promise, Jacob."

"You're a good girl, Lakota," he said, nodding at me. "Too good for me, unfortunately."

Taking a chance, I rushed up to his side and standing on my tip toes, pressed my lips to his hallow cheek. "I promise, Jacob," I said once again, and then turned on my heel and left through the back door.

At home, I locked myself in my room and broke down, begging God not to take Jacob Black's life.

Mother heard me cry from the other side, but she left me be.

* * *

><p><em>On Wednesday morning, Jacob sat hunched over with his head pressed to his knees as the freezing water gushed down upon his head and onto his shivering naked body in the tiny bathtub. He'd been like this an hour now; frozen in the uncomfortable position he was in, trying so hard to ignore the burn in his chest and to stop obsessing over Lakota. Ever since she'd left for Seattle, he couldn't think straight because she had taken a part of him with her, the stronger part. And no matter how long he tried to will the ache away, it wouldn't, instead it just grew worse. <em>

_Last night had been the fourth time he was about to run off to find her, only to force himself back home on wobbly legs, pale and dying. Billy knew something was up the instant his son walked through the back door and for just a second, Jacob thought his father knew he had imprinted. But the look of understanding in Billy's eyes disappeared a second later, only to be replaced with sorrow. _

_You see Billy believed that his alpha-born son would overcome his sickness and become stronger. The traces of venom that had somehow been on that god forsaken knife were nothing compared to a full dose straight from the glands of a vampires mouth. However, Carlisle Cullen had told him that no matter the amount, Jacob's body couldn't fight the life-threatening poison. That for some reason unknown to them, Jacob's immune system was failing him, allowing the venom to spread, to conquer and slowly but surely, to kill. _

_Holding on to hope and to the creator, Billy prayed and prayed and prayed, asking God not to take his only son so soon. A part of him felt that his prayers would be granted, but the other felt hopeless. Carlisle Cullen was a good… man, and Billy knew that despite the treaty, and despite the fact that his family and the Cullen's were enemies, the vampire doctor wouldn't lie to him, especially not after he helped Jacob once before._

_But whether his son died or not, Billy swore to himself that he would find out the mystery behind that knife._

"_Son? Are you in there?" he called from the other side of the door, voice laced with worry._

"_I'm OK, dad," Jacob called back miserably, letting out a breath._

"_Are you sure, son?" his father pushed._

"_Yes, dad, I'll be out in a minute."_

_Jacob could hear his father's shaky sigh before he rolled back down the hall, into the living room. He felt terrible for his father; he felt he had failed him, even after everything they'd been through. What was the point in him having me if I am to die like this? Jacob would ask himself every day since the incident in the woods. Sometimes, he just wanted to die immediately, so as he wouldn't have to see his once strong father turn into a helpless old man._

_But today would be different, for him and for his loving father. Today Jacob would propose to Lakota. _

_Just the thought brought butterflies to his stomach and he would squeeze his eyes shut, willing them away. Hell, even his heart would jump all over the place and he'd break out in a sweat; something that rarely happened to him ever since he first phased. _

_He knew that Lakota would say yes, she had practically said yes to him that Saturday morning in Joan Carmichael's living room. And although he was aware that she would marry him out of pity only, he was willing to accept that… for now. They would spend his last days together, every hour of every day together, and she would fall in love with him before his time was up. He knew this because he could see in her eyes that she was feeling things for him that a normal person would feel after months, years even, the only thing missing in those beautiful grey eyes he adored was love. And he would make her feel love._

_It was funny, a couple of weeks back when he had first imprinted, he hated the thought of just being next to her. He wanted to fight it, to prove to the pack that imprinted on or not, he was capable of choosing the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. But all that faded away when he stabbed himself and heard her say that someday his wife and children would want him. He didn't know what it was, or why those words had affected him so much, but every night after that he would dream of her laying in his bed and two black-haired children cuddled up in between them, complaining that they couldn't go asleep without 'mommy and daddy'. His heart would be swollen with love in the morning for the wife and children he never had._

_When Jacob found out that Lakota had gone to Seattle the morning after the tragic news, he ran into the deep wood and threw a fit, managing to knock down one tree. His hands had been so torn up that it took ages for them to heal, and with the venom spreading through his body, everything took double the time to heal. Unfortunately, the scar from his stabbing never faded. This both confused him and pissed him off. But Lakota! He couldn't believe she had left, and for how long? What if he never saw her again? Did he want to see her again? No, no, yes, yes, yes, yes, oh god yes!_

_For two days he worried she was gone forever, until he heard Joan on the phone to Lakota's mother. The relief he experienced after hearing she was gone for only a week was indescribable. He could hardly wait for her return, as much as he hated to admit it to himself._

_Now, although Jacob was accepting the imprint, he was still unhappy about it. If he still had years to live, he would've never given in and would've fought it as best he could. But time was important to him and the things he felt for Lakota that he could no longer ignore made him crave her touch, her care, her loving. He didn't want to die fighting something that caused him physical pain; he wanted to die in her arms, under her loving gaze, feeling wanted and cherished. _

_And despite the fact that Lakota would have to live in his tiny home with his father, Jacob promised himself that he would make things work and that he would have what he always wanted; a girl who loved him in return. _

_Maybe what he was doing was cruel, dragging her into something that would end too soon. But he knew deep down that they both needed each other fully, wholly, completely. _

_The news that he had imprinted would be shocking to the pack, Jacob didn't look forward to it. _

"_Dad," Jacob said, appearing in the doorway of the living room, clean and dressed._

_Muting the TV, Billy looked up at his son. "Yes, Jacob?"_

"_It's time."_

_Jacob drove to Lakota's house in his battered Rabbit, his mother's wedding ring in the pocket of his black khakis. He was shaking, the seat rattling beneath him, and no matter how many times he told himself to calm down, that everything would be OK, the fear of his imprint's rejection wouldn't subside. What if her mother said no? That would be a problem, because Lakota was only sixteen years old and in order to marry, she needed her parents' permission. _

_But it was only for a month, Jacob reminded himself, they would only be married a month and once he was buried, Lakota could go back to her mother… his grip tightened on the steering wheel at the thought of dying. Jacob didn't want to die, he wanted to live… tears stung his eyes, but he quickly swatted them away. Crying made Jacob feel weak._

_Parking across the road from Lakota's house, he jumped out and made his way over. _

"_Yes?" her mother asked suspiciously, holding the door open a crack._

"_I'm here to marry your daughter."_


End file.
